Shaded in Grey
by CanadianChick07
Summary: For some people it was easy to leave their undercover identity behind. For Andy- the line wasn't so black and white. Everything about the undercover operation with Nick was shaded in grey. Luke had managed to get them out, by the skin of their teeth. After she gets back she doesn't know who she can trust.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm baaaccckkkk! I've recently gotten some PM's and reviews asking if I could update my story "Blast From The Past." I don't really have any plot ideas for it to continue, but this is the next best thing- another story.**

**It will be taking place about 5 or 6 months into Nick and Andy's undercover operation. And yes, this will be a Luke/Andy story (as of right now. Who knows, it might change). It will also have a lot of Gail and Sam friendship in it.**

* * *

Pacing helped. Pacing somehow made everything better for the instant that you were going around in a circle. It got your energy out, instead of pacing; you might be doing something worse. Pacing helped the adrenaline calm down. Pacing helped get you get your thoughts in control. However, what pacing did not help with was the look on your face when the cell phone chimed of a new text.

Andy rushed over to the phone, after hearing the sound that alerted to her a new text message. Ever since she had sent the message five minutes before, she had been extremely nervous, leading to her pacing. That text message had only contained one word. One word only. One word.

Why was it that one simple word could screw up everything? One word, really you weren't sure if that one word was the right word to use, but you used it anyways. That fucking one word. That one word that meant get the ever living hell out of where you were. The return message only contained one word. **Dodge. **Really, one word did have many meanings. It could be implicated in a lot of different scenarios. The one word where you hoped to hell that both parties were on the same page. That one word that may fuck up everything you had just worked for.

She sat down on the couch and put her head on her hands, her one hand still clutching the cell phone. After a couple seconds in that position, she realized the consequences of that text message. Dodge. It meant get the hell outta dodge and to the pre-arranged meeting place. It meant pack up quickly, lock the door and run. It meant that even undercover, there was no time for goodbyes. It was run. It was a message from your handler basically agreeing with you: you're fucked.

When the surge of adrenaline hit, she quickly ran over to the safe, took out the guns they had stashed in there. There was an American passport, 2 Canadian one, and a couple thousand dollars of cash. One could never be over prepared in this situation. She grabbed the duffle bag in the corner of the room and shoved as much as she possibly could into the bag. A glance at the clock told her she didn't have much time.

Five minutes later, after swiping some of the toiletries from the bathroom, she took a look around the apartment one last time and locked the door behind her. Andy quickly looked around the hallway to make sure nobody suspicious was lurking in the shadows. After determining it was safe, she made her way to the elevator. She would have preferred the stairs, but they were way too narrow and just screaming for trouble.

She thought she held her breath the entire elevator ride. Before leaving the elevator, she made sure nobody was in the lobby before running as fast as she could to the car. Andy put the key in the ignition and drove off, as fast as she could. She was determined to leave this place like a bad habit that she was determined to break. Leave, and never look back.

Andy drove as fast as she possibly could to their prearranged meeting place, in case anything bad happened. She looked around the empty parking lot at the park and wondered if this was all a set up. Then she saw who she was supposed to meet, sitting at one of the park benches. She looked down to make sure her weapon was there and one last time before she stepped out of the vehicle, she made sure it was loaded.

The woman who was sitting there looked at Andy as she calmly sat down, trying not to let any nerves show. "I hope you know how bad this situation is," the woman said, almost like she was trained to do this. Get undercover cops out of bad situations, and in a hurry.

Andy nodded. "I wouldn't have sent the text message if I didn't think it was bad," she said, grimly.

A lady and her two kids passed by Andy and the lady and now were within ear-shot. The lady Andy was meeting with, who hadn't introduced herself, was pointing to a person coming over the hill. "My husband will be here soon," the lady said, looking around to make sure nobody else was watching.

Andy nodded at "Cover Up Lady". She strained her eyes to see who it was in the distance, but the playground obstructed her view. "Your husband knows about this too?"

Cover Up Lady chuckled. "He's the one who got you in this mess. You don't need to know my name, I'm not here, we didn't have this meeting. Understand, Officer?"

She nodded again and she almost passed out of shock when she saw Cover Up Lady's 'husband.' It was Luke. As in Detective Luke Callaghan. The one who basically gave her the job in 5 minutes and asked her to jump off a cliff for him. Oh yeah, that Luke who had gotten her in this mess. That Luke who should not be here right now. The Luke that Andy had no idea was in Ottawa.

Luke approached the 2 ladies and Cover Up Lady nodded at him, before leaving a piece of paper with Andy and getting into a grey Prius. Luke sat down in Cover Up Lady's spot and looked at Andy. "McNally," he said.

"I like the sound of that. I really do," Andy smiled. " How fucked am I?"

Luke looked straight, not looking at Andy and the piece of paper she was stuffing in her jacket pocket. "You're fucked. We don't get her involved for nothing. What we had happen today does not happen often."

Obviously, the name Cover Up Lady, suited who ever she was. Andy was beginning to think this scene was out of a Covert Affairs episode or a spy movie. No, she was Andy McNally and she was in deep doo doo. "What happens next?"

Luke sighed. "The piece of paper that she gave you holds instructions on what to do next. McNally, follow everything on that piece of paper. Do not think you get out of this on your own. We have protocol set up in case of situations like these."

Andy smiled grimly. "I get it. Pass Go and collect $200 and nothing else."

"If you get into any trouble, this is a prepaid cell phone. Dump yours. Who knows what might happen if you keep your old one," Luke handed her a new cell phone and Andy also stashed that into her jacket.

She nodded. "Luke, I have one question. What about Nick?"

Luke looked at her. "That's a good question, McNally. I don't know."

"What you're telling me is that you don't have protocol to get him out right now?" Andy asked, terrified.

He just looked straight ahead. "We're working on it. Some things have come up."

* * *

**I am not going to the typical "come in and arrest everybody" scenario at the end of the UC. Both Nick and Andy's covers are blown.  
**

**Thoughts? Reviews are always welcome! **


	2. Chapter 2

**I get the dis-trust for Luke, I really do :) I hated Luke for awhile too, but then I just got annoyed with how Sam was treating Andy. And there wasn't many Andy/Luke stories around here. **

**I promise that Luke isn't to blame for this whole UC thing blowing up. It actually has to do with Nick *gasps***

* * *

She nodded. "Luke, I have one question. What about Nick?"

Luke looked at her. "That's a good question, McNally. I don't know."

"What you're telling me is that you don't have protocol to get him out right now?" Andy asked, terrified.

He just looked straight ahead. "We're working on it. Some things have come up."

Her head shot up and she looked Luke directly in the eye. "Like what? What has come up? Why haven't you gotten Nick out of there?"

Luke put his hand up. "I'm not telling you until you are back in Toronto and done your briefing."

Andy ran her hands through her hair. "Tell me you have some sort of plan, Luke. Use Cover Up Lady. I'm not leaving until my partner is out."

"No. Follow the instructions, and then burn them. Andy, you are in danger. Danger of being killed. I'd rather not have 2 dead cops because of a UC. Get back to Toronto. Don't worry about Nick, that's my job."

Andy stood up. "If you don't get him out, and safely," she threatened. She told herself not to go there. She couldn't _Stay positive_ _McNally_, she ordered herself.

Luke sat there, watching her pace for a couple seconds. "I'll try my best."

She turned around, said a couple prayers and got into the front seat of their car. She noticed that Luke didn't promise her anything. He couldn't. Nobody could promise anything in their line of work. She just prayed like hell that Luke and Cover Up lady could get to Nick before he was tortured or killed.

Andy unfolded the piece of paper in her jacket pocket. It basically told her to drive like hell to Toronto, get gas in Kingston, stay in a hotel tonight. There was a reservation under Amanda Stanhope. And then in the morning she was supposed to call Oliver.

What good would calling Oliver do? She loved the man dearly but a phone call saying "oh hey, I'm back and apparently nobody can know but I've been told to call you?" It was a little odd. Hell, everything about this was odd.

* * *

Nick was sitting at the apartment. You know what feeling deep down in your gut that something is going to go wrong? You don't know what… but something is. It's that feeling when somebody calls at 2 am. Unless it's your drunk friend, you know it's something bad. Nobody calls at 2 am to chat.

The last time he had that feeling….. Shane Butler. Afghanistan.

That sinking feeling that you just knew bad shit was going down. There was nothing you could do it stop it. Nothing. It was like a hurricane. You could prepare and prepare but you never knew exactly the strength it was going to be when it hit land and your house. Nick had no idea what the size of this hurricane was- Category 1 or Category 5. But the feeling in his gut told him that this would be a Cat 5 storm.

There was nothing he could but wait. To him it was a typical day. Come home from work and lounge around. Wait for McNally to get off work. Typical day. Except that he couldn't shake the feeling in his gut. He walked around a little bit and was tempted to go for a run. But that was pushing his luck. It would be better if he stayed inside.

He was working at a men's clothing store. What a joke. It was definitely a front and there was some heavy duty weapons and drugs being distributed through the back. He understood why he was "working" there. It had only been five months and they had promoted him to Assistant Manager. Which he didn't quite get. The people running the store knew he knew about what was going on, behind closed doors. Yet, the promoted him. Nick thought they gave him the promotion, in order to keep his mouth shut.

It was about ½ hour into the nervous feeling and Nick grabbed a beer and turned the news on. He needed something to get his mind off of it. He had used the washroom and noticed a lack of items on the counter but didn't really think anything of it.

And then the door opened…. And Nick knew why he had a nervous feeling in his gut. Oh Lord have mercy. This was a Cat 5 storm coming. Because the people who had just busted into his apartment were his employers. And they did not look impressed. At all.

"So, Nick Collins," Scott VanHearden said, walking across the living room to where Nick sat.

Nick was fucked. He had no way out. He didn't know when Andy's shift ended. He had no idea. His cell phone was in the kitchen, by the fridge. All he had was his gun, which was hidden at the back of his jeans. He usually carried, sometimes even at work, concealed of course. He was glad that he listened to the voice at the back of his mind. Although, one gun wasn't going to do him good when his boss, Scott and the other assistant manager, Dustin Michaels, stood in front of them.

"I don't know any Nick Collins," he said.

Scott rolled his eyes. "So, Justin Crawford, who are you really?"

Nick looked between Scott and Dustin. "Well you do have my social insurance number, my drivers license and banking information. So yes, I am Justin Crawford," Nick told them. Keep your cover, keep your cool. He could talk his way out of this. If Sam could hold off being killed by Jamie Brennan for so long (or so the legend told)… he could maybe hold off. He had no idea. All he knew, is that he was fucked.

"Where's your wife, Alana?" Dustin asked.

"Work."

Scott looked down at the sheet in front of him, which Nick had no idea what said on it. "Where does she work, again?"

"Insurance Agency on 4th and 9th. She also has another job at the grocery store down the corner. I'm not sure when she's coming home," Nick said. Why were they asking about Andy? What the hell was going on? Andy obviously wasn't home… and by their line of questioning, not at work.

Dustin nodded. "So, Justin," he emphasized 'Justin.' "Where's your wife? Shouldn't you know where your wife is?"

"I don't know where she is. Honestly. I can call her, but she usually doesn't answer her phone is she's working at the grocery store."

"Maybe, she's at the neighbour's down the hall. I heard from the neighbor, Mary, that he's hot. Maybe Alana is having an affair with him?" Scott suggested.

Oh fuck. Double fuck, if there was such a thing. That would mean that they have been doing surveillance on the place. "I don't know where Alana is, but I can assure you she's not at the neighbour's down the hall. She's at work."

Scott and Dustin crossed their arms simultaneously. "That's a funny thing, Justin." There came the emphasis on the name. "Because we just came from the Insurance Agency and the grocery store, and she didn't show up for work. And we tried the number you have listed as an emergency contact and… there's no answer. So either she's having an affair with Jimmy down the hall or something is going on."

Nick swallowed. He didn't know how to get out of this. Honesty was the best policy at this point. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't know where Alana is. I know her father has cancer, but he lives in Minnesota and I doubt she'd go and see him without telling me."

Dustin nodded. "Well, we did check travel records and nothing. We did some digging… What I am really curious is that she doesn't even have Facebook or Twitter. Nothing."

Oh shit. Now Nick was just going to spin the truth. Lie straight out of his ass. He knew Scott and Dustin were both packing heat, but so far it hadn't escalated to that… Yet. "Alana's ex… let's just say she found out about his little indiscretions via Facebook. In University, being away from your girlfriend for the first time… pictures get posted. You get the idea. She's vowed that she doesn't want that again. Alana trusts me, I trust her."

Scott looked at Dustin. "Interesting. So Justin, where do you come from?"

"Carstairs, Alberta."

"And in Ottawa. That's a change."

Nick grinned. He could spin this. It might work. "Alana's mom is from here. She didn't want to move, so I moved for her."

"Such a romantic," Dustin said sarcastically. And then he took out his gun and pointed it at Nick's head. "So, Nick Collins…"

"Why do you think my name is Nick Collins?" Nick asked. "I'm assuming you did a background check on me and everything checks out. I wouldn't have been hired, otherwise."

"See, that's the funny thing. We sometimes prefer people with a more shady past. You, on the other hand… Have a squeaky clean record, Mr. Collins," Scott said.

Nick looked at the two. Mind as well force their hand. He could bluff. He was fucking good at poker. Time to put his poker skills to good use and put his poker face on. "Why do you think my name is Nick Collins?" He repeated.

"A source."

"And you trust a source? You guys just told me that you like people with a little bit more questionable backgrounds," Nick replied, calmly and smoothly. Okay, he was a little more calm than Justin Crawford was. But hey, Justin Crawford was a laid back guy.

Dustin nodded. "Oh, we trust him. He showed us pictures." He took the safety off of the gun and made sure Nick saw him doing just that.

"I just moved to Ottawa, five months ago. So I am assuming this source knows me from Alberta? I find it hard to believe that any of my friends from back there would be in Ottawa."

Scott laughed. "No, Collins. He was in your platoon."

Right there. Bang. Boom. Done. You might as well put a bullet in his head right there. He was screwed. Again, you might as well have killed him right there and then. There was no way he was getting out of this okay. Or alive. He wasn't walking away from this one, that's for sure.

And then he heard a voice he couldn't place. "What the hell do you two think you're doing?!"

* * *

**So who's the voice? Any ideas? **


End file.
